Bludger to the Head
by HoodedSpellcaster
Summary: Collection of one-shots and drabbles featuring Cassius Warrington and Roger Davies. 2/10. 'Warrington Senior is dead and Cassius mourns alone in the Third Floor. Roger consoles him and for a moment everything is okay.'
1. Chapter 1 Christmas Affairs

Christmas Affairs

A/N and warnings: This is for the Bingo Board Challenge: D3: It's just sex. Post-Hogwarts/Post-War. Slash but no lemon. Just a short not-so-Christmas-y Christmas ficlet I wrote at night. Enjoy.

Summary: Cassius Warrington has met Roger Davies every Christmas since the incident at the party but it never means anything but self-loathing, trouble, and a promise to repeat the same thing next year.

* * *

><p>Christmas carols play on the background. A thin layer of snow has covered the ground. Lights twinkle in the windows. It's Christmas time but Cassius can't help to fight against the disgusting, empty feeling in his chest. He dislikes Christmas but it hasn't always been so, just these past years. It's almost eleven. Perhaps he could just go home this time.<p>

He rubs his temples, feeling the headache waking up from its sleep. It's pounding his skull dully but Cassius ignores the feeling. It's not like it was worse than getting a Bludger to his head. He pushes the empty glass away. Alcohol never does any good, he knows it very well, yet there he is, sitting in a small pub in the middle of London and drinking. He receives his umpteenth shot of strong Firewhisky. It doesn't really go to his head; he knows it doesn't. He can still think straight. Too bad there is nothing he wants to think about in particular but leaving the place.

"I knew I would find you here, Cassius."

Cassius flinches when he hears his name being spoken. He looks up and scoffs. "Davies."

The brunette in a suit lets out a small laugh but Cassius' glare doesn't go unnoticed by him. Cassius hates looking up at Roger put he's used to it; after all, the former Ravenclaw had outgrown him during the years between their last year at Hogwarts and their reunion couple years later.

"What? We're not in the first name basis anymore?" Roger asks casually and sat down on an empty barstool. "Cas?"

Cassius doesn't bother to answer and so Roger just shrugs.

They had been colleagues for a while they both had worked at the Ministry of Magic, high up at the _Department of International Magical Cooperation_. They hadn't actually been anything that could have been called friends. More like acquaintances, if even that, Cassius broods bitterly and silently watches Roger ordering a drink. From what Cassius knew Roger still worked for the Ministry. How many years it had been since he had resigned after the _incident _at the Christmas party? Five? Six even? Cassius can't remember and he is sure neither can Roger.

Roger takes a particularly long gulp of his pint. "It has been long time," he says and interrupts Cassius' train of thought. "Whole year already. How've you been?"

"I've been better," Cassius snarls and gets up, not intending to share anything that had something to do with his personal life with Roger. He shouldn't be getting involved with Roger in the first place. He teeters a little, the alcohol affecting his balance. Roger swiftly grips his wrist and keeps him from falling which angers him even more.

"You shouldn't be leaving just yet," Roger states with a charming smile. Cassius grits his teeth and looks away. "Just couple drinks," Roger continues, purring. He has warm, big hands; he strokes Cassius' wrist with his thumb. "For the old times' sake. I have a room reserved for this night."

* * *

><p>Cassius uncurls himself from the mess of tangled limbs and reaches for his shirt and socks on the hotel room floor. His muscles ache slightly and there's a voice in head, nagging at him. He does his best to ignore it, he really does. His mouth tastes distantly like Ogden's Old Firewhisky and cherry tobaccos Roger loves.<p>

Roger Davies had been a hopeless flirt and a ladies' man extraordinaire when younger. Now at the age of 32 people would say he had changed for the better, being married and having a secure relationship. Rare are the people who know the former Quidditch Captain isn't entirely loyal to his pretty little trophy wife, let alone that he isn't completely straight either. Cassius Warrington knows he's probably the only one who knows the latter with the first hand experience.

In a way Cassius doesn't pity himself; he pities Roger's wife. Cassius ignores the ring on the side table. He ignores knowing about Roger's three years old daughter. And he tries so hard to ignore the man sleeping peacefully on the bed. Cassius pulls his shirt over his head and gets up from the bed to pull on his jeans. Roger doesn't wake up when the mattress moves; he is still fast asleep, snoring softly.

The clock ticks on the wall. Half past five, it's still dark outside. From the open curtains Cassius can see the snow falling down. He walks to the door and opens it, not making a noise. He doesn't allow himself to breath before he's safely on the other side of the door. His blunt fingernails dug on his palms as he curses.

The night was a mistake. It was just sex. It was pointless.

But Cassius is partially responsible for Roger cheating on his wife. And yet he knows they will do it again.

Like every Christmas.


	2. Chapter 2 For A Moment

For A Moment

A/N and warnings: Just another ficlet of Roger/Cassius. Angst, Friendship, Pre-Slash. Hogwarts, Cassius and Roger are in their seventh year (Harry Potter's sixth year) in this fic though they should've graduated two years earlier, hence AU.

Summary: Warrington Senior is dead and Cassius mourns alone in the Third Floor. Roger consoles him and for a moment everything is okay.

* * *

><p>The envelope lay on the corridor floor.<p>

It had been torn open hastily only a moment ago and been thrown away. The scent of lavender wafted from the letter. Cassius knew the perfume all too well. It brought to his mind his home, the Warrington Manor, near the city of Shrewsbury. His mother had taken liking to the fragrant flowers and so the old, prestige building held the scent of lavender.

But the letter joined its envelope on the floor, scrunched into a ball as soon as it was read. The two lines, written in Cassius' mother's small handwriting were smudged by teardrops, had been bad news.

Warrington Senior was dead.

Cassius crossed his arms and clutched his sleeves. His blunt nails dug through the layers of clothing and pressed into his upper arms. He wished the physical pain would relieve the agony that twisted his insides into knots and forced him to slump down. Cassius let out a strangled sob, not wanting to show any kind of weakness.

The cold stone wall didn't bring any sort of comfort when he leaned into it. The Warrington family, although all Slytherins and proud of it, weren't and had never been followers of the Dark Lord even though they had their own questionable past surrounded by the Dark Arts and certain disdain towards the beings.

Cassius bites the inside of his cheek. It wasn't his fault his father was dead. It wasn't his fault the Dark Lord had tried recruiting Warrington Senior to gain more connections to the Ministry. It wasn't his fault his father had acted like some sort of hero and faced the consequences of disagreeing with the most dangerous dark wizard of their time and not joining him.

The third floor corridor was soundless apart from Cassius' ragged breathing.

Pitiful, he thought of himself, gritting his teeth and trying, trying so hard, to keep his tears concealed behind his closed eye lids and not succeeding. He was truly pitiful. And so he let himself break down.

Cassius listened to the echoing footsteps further away in the third floor silently wishing them to go away. No such luck, he cursed when the footsteps stopped few feet away from him.

"I heard you," the voice said. "I'm sorry. If you want to–"

He sniffed and looked up at the apologizing Ravenclaw and didn't even bother hiding the fact he was crying. Roger Davies' lips had formed a thin line. His voice didn't hold his Quidditch captain's authority nor his flirtatious tone. It was soft and sad. Pitying, Cassius noted but didn't bother to comment it. Times were hard. Just in the morning there had been a mentioning in the Daily Prophet about the Bruce family being killed and several students stayed at their homes with their families or left the country for good.

"I don't want to talk about it," Cassius snarled as menacingly as he could in his current state, answering Roger's unfinished question. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and muttered '_Incendio_' under his breath and watched the letter disappear into thin air as the flames died out.

"Okay, okay," the Ravenclaw said. "I'll just go then…"

Cassius snorted that. True, it was none of Roger's business but damn, it wouldn't be anyone else's business either so he automatically grabbed the gossipy Quidditch captain's pant leg when the Ravenclaw attempted leaving. He didn't need Roger Davies to go telling about him sobbing. That's what he told himself at least when he opened his mouth and muttered:

"You _can_ stay."

Apparently taken aback by the plea – which Cassius would never admit it was – it took few seconds from Roger to sit down next to the Slytherin chaser and wrap his arm around the taller boy's shoulders. Cassius stiffened because of the sudden closeness with Roger but let it flow and slowly leaned on the Ravenclaw and let the tears come again.

"It's going to be okay", Roger whispered quietly and hugged Cassius who sobbed on Roger's shoulder. He rubbed his hand soothingly between Cassius' shoulder blades. "It's going to be okay."

Cassius didn't say anything to that even though he knew it wasn't going to be okay. Not in a while, at least. Nothing was going to bring his father back. But he could give himself a right for this little moment of comfort he needed more than he dared to admit. He could let himself relax and feel safe inside those arms for a moment.

And during that moment everything would be okay.


End file.
